


An Uprising (And a Chance to Fall)

by maridoll



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, also a work for opss18, dress/goa combo au!, i didnt list all the protags but theres a good majority for a cast lineup, plus none of the villains lmao youll see later, w magic bc i had to explain devil fruits somehow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maridoll/pseuds/maridoll
Summary: Forces lurk on the island of Goa to overthrow the current king. But when they all deign to act at the same time, and with the deadline fast approaching, more complications arise than problems solved.[ basically I combined dressrosa and goa into one place and mushed their collective casts together. and added magic. so think: kingdom/royalty au? with magic. ]





	1. Sing, to Begin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Justm3h](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justm3h/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO this is my ss present to justm3h. I've had so much fun working on this au, hope it's enjoying to read!
> 
> this entire first chapter is setup -part one, if you will. it's also the shortest part soooooooo haha

By the beckoning of everyone, Ace leans forward and blows all twenty-two candles on the birthday cake out.

 

Then he reaches and catches Luffy before his younger brother can dogpile the cake, slamming his head into the old wooden flooring of the bandits’ hideaway. Around them, everyone erupts into laughter, drowning out Luffy’s muffled whines and ignoring his flailing limbs.

 

The excitement of having everyone cramped in the space celebrating this particular June first is a welcome distraction from what it implies, and what he’s thought about for the past day, week, few months, even. Right now, he’s just living. He’s free. (notreally) It’s not on his mind. (fornow)

 

He thanks Makino for the cake as she hands him the last slice. She winks at him then rises, the platter under her arm, and bids him goodnight. Was it really that late?

 

Ace watches the door as she slips out, and catches sight of the moon already high in the sky. He frowns. Someone should walk her back. 

 

A tall blonde takes a seat beside him and he lets most of his worries of Makino go, turning his head to face him.

 

“What are you going to do now,” Rocinante asks him, because he’s always been straight to the point.

 

And Ace smiles, but now the gears are turning, and now everything happy in the moment is false. Faked. And he goes back to being the kid of twenty-two who doesn’t know what to do.

 

He says, “Live my life of course, Roci!” but he doesn’t mean it. If Rocinante has any qualms, he doesn’t voice them. All he does is blink, and then Ace turns to finish his cake, trying to will all the troublesome thoughts away.

 

There’s nothing either of them can do. 

 

By the end of the month, Ace had to enlist in the royal army.

 

-

 

The squat door to the hovel opens just a crack, just enough for a wooden soldier to slip through, and then the natural light is extinguished and the room is once again lit only by a small flame.

 

Cotton looks up from her place on Dragon’s shoulders, her attention gathered by the new arrival. “Kyros,” she greets, and the toy comes closer.

 

Finally, Dragon looks up from the old map spread out before him. “What did you find,” he asks.

 

Kyros comes to the other side of the map and settles his wooden joints so that he’s sitting. He shakes his head. “Not much.”

 

“But not nothing,” Cotton says.

 

“It needs to be before her birthday. The wedding will happen then.”

 

Dragon hums, then the sound fades and it’s silent. The flame flickers from the corner. He looks down to the map again, to the port of Carta. “We can move up a few days, but only that. What do you think?”

 

He’s greeted by snoring.

 

“He was out all night again,” Cotton admits, her head drooping. “He couldn’t sleep.”

 

Dragon hums again. “Nightmares will do that to you. When I was younger, I only slept when I could pass out from exhaustion.” He goes back to playing with his quill, jotting notes on the borders of the map, where blank space lay. “Go wake him up.”

 

Cotton hops off his shoulders and pads over, her gaze sad as she looked at the hunched-over blonde. What a predicament. Right before their mission, too. She takes time in jumping first to his knee, and then on his head, grasping pale strands to stay put. With an inhale, she raises a fist.

 

“WAKE UP!” she shouts, pounding the tiny fist into his head, and he hunches over before startling awake with a noise, throwing his head back and forth before it lands on Cotton’s small form on the ground before him, where she’d been knocked in his struggle.

 

“Sabo, how many days can we move up the schedule until we run into trouble?” 

 

The blonde jerks his head in the direction of the light, then back to the Tontatta. “I . . I fell asleep.” He sighs, running a hand over where she’d knocked him. “Sorry.” He stands and pads over to another side of the map, nodding to Kyros as he passes. “We have that shipment coming in at the end of July, so . . three days.”

 

“That will work,” Kyros states, and Dragon nods, jotting down another note on the corner of the curling parchment.

 

Cotton jumps back on the table. She points over to the far left of the map, where Balsa, and their current location, was. But before she says anything, a familiar thumping gathers everyone’s attention.

 

The front door opens a little wider than the last time and a more hulking figure lowers herself down and scoots into their meeting place, wrinkling her nose at the dim lighting. She takes care to shut the door and then stands to full height, adjusting her clothes after. “I hope I’m not late.”

 

“Lami,” Dragon greets. “How was Sevio?” 

 

“Dreadful,” she mutters. “But I did get a good sketch of the palace front, and an idea off the guard shifts.” She comes further in to the room, and gestures to the bag around her shoulders. “I wrote everything down.”

 

“Perfect. We’re starting the operation in two months.”

 

She raises her brows and Dragon continues. “On August first, before Rebecca Riku’s wedding. That’s when we take the kingdom back.”

 

-

 

Wicca finds Leo on a window ledge, which was odd, considering they were in a hovel. She doesn’t deign to questions it, instead settling down beside him and looking to the squat patch of land his gaze was fixed to. It wasn’t anything special, so she assumes he’s in thought.

 

It was ten years to the day, that everything had happened.

 

She reaches out, bumps his shoulder. Leo turns, a bit startled, and she nods to him. “Talk with me,” she says. 

 

Immediately his eyes tear up. “I miss Lady Viola. I miss Manshe-” His voice catches, and he breaks off, not even able to finish. 

 

Of course he was remembering it. She could still picture it all, and as she presses closer, wraps a comforting arm around Leo, the world around her morphs.

 

They’re in an upper room of the palace, playing with Viola, one with a window just big enough for the three of them to squeeze their heads through when a raging light suddenly appears on the far side of the city. Viola had immediately known the location combined with the curling smoke could only mean Grey Terminal was burning.

 

But . . why? Just days before, her father had written off a decree brought forth by the nobility sanctioning a “cleansing” of the area. She shivers just thinking about it. Wanting to kill all those people . . .

 

Her eyes widen, and she spins away from the window.

 

“Wait, Lady Viola!” Leo calls out, hurrying after her.

 

“I can’t!” she calls back. “Something is happening! Something bad!”

 

Wicca remembers them running down a stairwell, and being a few steps away from a window when a huge explosion made them all hunker down, holding their ringing ears. When they looked through the opening, the capital was on fire too.

 

Viola reaches the foyer and Scarlett is leading a young Rebecca away from the door. There is soot on the edge of her dress. She gives her sister a stern look that Viola ignores at the sight of the damage, hurrying to swing the doors open and pelt out, Leo and Wicca on her heels.

 

It was chaotic, out on the streets of Sevio. She could see nobility running around, their fancy clothes torn and wrinkled in their scramble. Everyone was screaming. She gathers Leo and Wicca in the folds of her dress and pushes past people, heading where she could see the most smoke in the sky. 

 

Eventually she starts to pay attention to the rushed words said, and it makes her blood run cold, so she refuses to believe it. She heads to the walls of hightown district, where Acacia seemed to be taking the brunt of this damage. 

 

In the blink of an eye, she’s skidding on her heels and Leo is screaming and a sword is slamming into the stone where she could’ve been. Viola pants from her spot on the ground, mumbling “I’m okay, I’m okay” between her breaths but her bloodied palms tell a different story. She looks up and meets the fearful gaze of a royal guard.

 

“I’m sorry,” he spews out, limbs jerky as they attach to the sword again, work to pull it from the ground. “Please run away! I don’t want to hurt you!”

 

She almost can’t believe it, but she doesn't have a choice. It had just happened. Then Wicca is tugging on her shirt and she’s on her feet, and the sword swings out from the ground just as Leo trips up the man, and they take off towards Acacia, leaving him sprawled on the ground.

 

Everything is so much worse there.

 

As far as the eye can see, there is fire and rubble. Entire buildings have collapsed in on themselves. People run screaming in panic and terror and confusion. Viola is all three of those, as she watches multiple members of the royal guard chase after them, swords raised and tears streaming down their faces.

 

Was it an uprising? Was it because the nobles didn’t get what they wanted, with the Grey Terminal? No, that couldn’t be right. They were running too, back in Sevio. 

 

“Lady Viola, watch out!” Wicca calls to her, and she stumbles, falling just in time to avoid an arrow and rolling further away. She gathers her arms under her and watches as the man on the horse continues down the street, not paying her any mind, shouting for everyone to run away.

 

That . . that didn’t seem right. They were unhappy? Then  _ why were they doing it? _

 

“This isn’t right,” she mumbles, and Leo pops out. She starts to protest, but he doesn’t let her get a word in, spouting that there was too much going on to notice a couple tiny dwarves.

 

She’s lucky to have them, because in the next moment it’s Wicca who comes out and kicks at the side of a sword, knocking it out from the figure’s hand and sending it skidding across the street. A gasp sounds from above, where the mounted and now disarmed soldier recognizes her. “Lady Viola!”

 

“Tank!” She steps back, still wary after the sudden attack. Wicca and Leo stand in front of her, but Tank has no other weapon. 

 

“You need to leave!” he tells her, speaking urgently. “None of us can control our movements, and Riku-”

 

“My father?!” She rushes forward, standing on her toes to reach him, but his hands tighten on the reigns, and he forces the horse back. “Where? Where is he?”

 

“He was near the south harbor last I heard, but he could be anywhere now. Listen, you really need to leave, before you get hurt!”

 

“What’s happening?” she asks instead, because self-preservation be damned, when everyone else was in danger.

 

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I wish it would stop.” And she’s never seen Tank cry, but tears are gathering in his eyes, illuminated by the flames. “I don’t want to do this! Please go, I don’t want to hurt you!”

 

She goes, if only to make him feel better. But she doesn’t go back to the palace. She takes Wicca and Leo and sprints to the harbor, as fast as her feet can carry her, avoiding soldiers and skirting rubble. 

 

She pauses when she sees a couple people struggling to lift stone from a body, a person trapped beneath. Taking a deep breath, Viola runs over, ignoring her scraped palms and pushing with all her strength, her added effort helping to tumble the rubble completely. The two pull their companion out from underneath, and they all turn to thank her. But then one of them recognizes her.

 

“Viola? Wha-Why is this happening? What is King Riku doing?” he asks, and she lets out a noise as their expressions turn slightly hostile.

 

“I don’t know, I’m trying to find him.” She nods to them. “Glad I could help, but I have to go! Bye!” And she starts running again, paying no mind to their shouts, focusing on getting to the sea.

 

The next time she sees a soldier, they’re looming before a mother and her small child, and then they’re being cut down by a tall man with a flowing cape, sword slashing until the soldier falls from their horse and they lie there, unmoving. The mother sobs out a thanks, holding her child tight, but Viola is frozen. The man asks if they’re alright, like he’s helping, like he just saved them. But that soldier . .

 

They’re not moving.

 

She tears her eyes away, runs farther. The shouts get louder as the fires get smaller, but the destruction is plain as day, like it had all started here. Burned heaps still smoked and charred, and she covers her mouth with her hand to keep from breathing in the smoke, the other holding the hem of her dress up so she doesn’t trip. 

 

They reach the sea and the strong wind whips at the faces, but the screams are coming from behind and they’ve gone too far and when they run back and push past people Viola sees someone dismount her father, leave him to tumble to the ground, and then points a sword right at his throat, holding him there.

 

Her breathing stops.

 

“King Riku,” Leo says, like he doesn’t know what to believe.

 

And then people stop, like they’re out of immediate danger with the king on his knees, and they start cheering for the man as he stands to full height, sword still pointed at her father. It doesn’t matter, he passes out soon after, like his mind couldn’t take all that was happening.

 

She couldn’t. She couldn’t believe this. But it was happening before her eyes, and who was she to deny  _ that? _

 

“Citizens of Dressrosa!” the man calls. “Your king and army have betrayed you! They have terrorized you tonight! But allow me, Doflamingo, to put your worries to rest.” He gestures to his side, and a woman appears, spreads her arms. Wicca gasps from Viola’s shoulder, as a wave of snow flies out and envelopes one of the still-burning fires, dashing it out with ease. Everyone around them gasps as well, like they can’t believe it.

 

The man, Doflamingo, smiles. “Remember! That it was magic that saved you tonight!”

 

Wicca lets the memory dissipate, lets Leo grip onto her coat, crying now. “We’re going to save them,” he vows, voice trembling. She nods, lets her eyes narrow.

 

“We will rescue them. Both Lady Viola and Mansherry. It won’t be long now.”

 

Across the island of Goa, in the kingdom of Dressrosa’s palace, there was a chamber below the ground floor where Viola sat. Her arms were chained tightly together before her. She stared at the glass of water because she was annoyed, and it was better than turning her gaze to the man she was annoyed at, who sat outside the bars, and who had been there for the past half hour.

 

She can’t help but eventually offer up her own answer, because his implications made her blood boil. “Magic is a curse,” she grits, her teeth clashing. “It’s brought nothing but bad things. It’s why Mansherry is held here. It’s why  _ I’m  _ here. But I bet you would  _ kill _ to have it, huh, Law?”

 

Law takes the statement in stride, leaning back. “Magic isn’t necessary for my skill set,” he answers. “Would it be useful to have? Yes. I could heal lots of people with it. It would be beneficial. But not everyone is born with the ability to wield it.”

 

“ _ He _ couldn’t just give it to you?” she spits, finally locking eyes with his golden ones, both narrowing in rage at the thought of it.

 

“You can’t just  _ give _ magic to people,” Law grunts. “You have to take it. Like how you took Jora’s-”

 

“I didn’t take it on purpose!”

 

“You killed her,” he deadpans.

 

“Because Doflamingo would have  _ murdered me _ otherwise!” she counters.

 

“That’s why you turned traitor?” He tips his head. “Because of your assumption? He hasn’t killed you yet.”

 

“What was I supposed to do,” she hisses. “He wanted to marry off Rebecca! I couldn’t stand by and let that happen!”

 

He hums. “That’s actually still happening. She’s engaged to that Outlook kid, so Doffy can have more trade influence.”

 

Viola hangs her head. Law can feel the anger coming off her in waves. She doesn’t say anything for a long time. He leans forward, almost presses his face to the bars.

 

“I  _ would _ kill to have magic. I’m so jealous of you, because you have it and you won’t use it.”

 

She lifts her head, just enough to glare at him. “Take it, then.”

 

He scoffs. “I can’t do that.” He gestures with a hand. “Drink the water, Viola.”

 

“Fuck you!”

 

“It’s the only glass you get today. Drink it.”

 

“Why?” she yells. “So it can make me weak? I might not mind if it negates my power, but it does a hell of a lot more than that!”

 

Instead of arguing, Law stands, sighing. They do this every time. “You’ll drink it eventually.” He offers a small wave. “See ya.”

 

Viola hunkers down again, in a corner, far, far away from the glass. She knew. She knew Doflamingo wanted to use her power. He’d wanted to for the last  _ four years _ she’d been trapped down here, imprisoned supposedly with the healing magic dwarf. Supposedly. She’d never seen Mansherry to confirm.

 

But she wouldn’t give it to him. She’d lasted this long. She wouldn’t let him use it again, the clairvoyance. 

 

If he hadn’t utilized it, Scarlett might still be alive. She owed it to Rebecca, to never let it fall back into his hands.

 

She owed the girl that much.

 

-

 

[ Three years ago ]

 

Occasionally, Luffy ventures into Lowtown to buy medicine. 

 

He can’t go to Carta, because Makino goes there, and he doesn’t want to cause trouble in Makino’s town. But Ace gets sick, and sometimes he can’t shake it off, like when his lungs get all wet, so Luffy has to go get medicine.

 

He bites his lip, picturing Ace lying on the floor of their room, head raised by the pillows, coughing, eyes screwed up in discomfort. He was born early, Dadan said, so he had lung dyps- dysplis- dysplas-

 

Something.

 

Luffy hates it, but he knows Ace hates it even more, because right now he’s sickly and hapless and he can’t be Luffy’s older brother, running around with him and taking down anyone who he can’t quite match up with. (Even if it mostly consisted of tigers -he really hated those! He could best any other animal on the mountain!)

 

So today, Luffy wasn’t out taking on tigers. He was opening the door to a Lowtown medicine shop, smiling as the little bell tingles, but not much because he was nervous,  _ knowing _ he didn’t have enough money to pay this time and he really liked this shop and he would hate to have to steal and then never use it again but if it was for Ace then he’d do anything but what if the other medicine shops weren’t any good and this one was really cheap and-

 

“Oh, you’re back.”

 

His eyes snap up to lock with the shopkeeper’s, who offers him a smile. Luffy nods, moves closer. 

 

“Weren’t you in here not long ago? Is your friend sick again?”

 

“Brother,” Luffy mumbles.

 

“Ah, that was right. Let me make you a vial -wait here.”

 

Luffy stands there, looking around the shop. Maybe he should swipe something else -just in case they needed it. But . . he purses his lips. This shop already didn’t have everything, and someone in Lowtown might need it more. 

 

His hand plays with the coins in his pockets. But . . 

 

The door opens again and Luffy jumps, spinning to see a tall man step through. He looks to Luffy and the boy blinks, caught off-guard by the dark circles under his eyes.

 

The shopkeeper comes back out and his face brightens. “Ah, Corazon! How good to see you again. Your usual order, I assume?”

 

Luffy tips his head. Corazon. He’d heard that name before.

 

“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.” The man smiles. “I’d appreciate it.”

 

“No, not a problem! I’m glad to offer my services to you. Wait one moment.”

 

Luffy frowns, still staring at the man’s face. He turns to look back, and Luffy moves his head away, blushing with embarrassment at having been caught. He had gold eyes. Interesting . .

 

His gaze turns back, slowly. He reminds Luffy of someone, with the tussled navy hair, the worn expression, the lanky form. He watches as the man walks to the counter, and the niceties of his clothes catch his attention. His hand plays with his coins again. Maybe, if he was careful, he could swipe some money . . .

 

“Corazon’s” fingers begin tapping on the counter, and Luffy doesn’t even notice at first, because it’s familiar, just like Roci’s- Oh.

 

His eyes widen. Oh!

 

He must make a noise, because the man’s watching him again, but Luffy can see the similarities to the boy Roci is always talking about, and maybe if he just takes a chance-

 

“You remind me of someone,” he blurts out. The man raises a brow. Luffy continues, making wild gestures.

 

“My mentor. He’s really tall, which is bad because he’s really, really clumsy! And he has super messy blonde hair, and lipstick that stretches alllll the way to his cheeks, like this! And-”

 

“Hey now, quit bothering Corazon, kid!” the shopkeeper scolds him. “Don’t you know who he is?”

 

And Luffy doesn’t have the guts to say no, because if he should then it would be bad if he didn’t, and he’s already going to stand out by running away, and-

 

“Sorry,” he mutters.

 

“Look, here’s your vial.” He puts a small bag on the counter’s edge. “It’s two-hundred-eighty beri.”

 

And Luffy’s eyes widen, because that can’t be right, right? That seemed more expensive, he definitely didn’t have that much. He goes back to biting his lip, pulling out his very small coin collection. Nope, definitely didn’t have that much. Looks like it was time to-

 

“I’ll pay.”

 

Luffy’s head shoots up to Corazon so fast that it jerks his body, causing the coins to tumble from his hand. He doesn’t pay them mind, gaping at him. “Wh-Wha?”

 

Even the shopkeeper is surprised. “You sure? There’s no need for that.”

 

Corazon smiles. “I’m sure. Put it with my total.” He taps his fingers against the counter. “Is it finished?”

 

And the man rushes off again, saying how it was almost! Almost ready just give him a moment!

 

Luffy moves his gaze as Corazon turns to look at him. He crouches down, gathering his coins and stuffing them back into his pockets. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

 

A pale hand appears before his eyes, holding the last coin. Luffy takes it and Corazon’s face is waiting behind, looking at him with a hint of curiosity.

 

“Your mentor sounds like an interesting person,” he tells Luffy. “Mind if I talk with you more about him? I can buy you lunch?”

 

And Luffy can’t believe it, because clearly Corazon recognized Roci and certainly Luffy was sure now this was the boy Roci mentioned, but Luffy couldn’t just talk about Roci with anyone, he wasn’t supposed to-

 

His stomach rumbles, but then the shopkeeper comes back and Law rises to pay, handing Luffy his small bag. Ace was waiting for him. 

 

They’re outside the shop and Luffy knows he has to answer. He frowns. “I-I can’t stay,” he eventually says. “I have to get back to Ace. He needs this.” He clutches the bag tighter to his chest. 

 

He crouches down again, to face Luffy properly. “Alright, I understand. My name is Law. You might mention me, to that mentor of yours.”

 

Luffy’s face scrunches up. “I thought your name was Corazon.”

 

Law laughs. “That’s just a title.”

 

“Oh. Then . . I’m Luffy!”

 

“Nice to meet you, Luffy.” Law smiles, holds a hand out. “I hope this Ace gets to feeling better. Being sick as a kid is never fun.”

 

“Yeah, thanks!” Luffy takes his hand, and Law turns it over. “But he’s not a kid -he’s five years older than me! But he still gets sick. But that’s okay! As long as I can get this-” And then he breaks off as Law releases his hand, and in his palm sits a single gold coin.

 

He stares. Luffy’s never seen a gold coin, before. After a minute, he looks up to Law. His eyes kinda matched it. 

 

Luffy swallows and pockets the coin, bowing deeply afterwards. “I promise I’ll mention you to- to my mentor!”

 

“I’d appreciate that.” Law stands straight again, waving. “Bye, Luffy. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

 

“Yeah! Maybe!” He waves too. “Thanks again!”

 

When he leaves Lowtown, there’s a big smile on his face.

 

He can’t wait to tell everyone.

 

-

 

Acilia only needs one look in the mirror to tell Rebecca is filled with dread.

 

It’s written on her face, as the brush drags through her long pink hair. Acilia knows why, too. And she knows there was nothing she could do about it.

 

So she turns back to brushing her hair, until sniffling makes her look up again.

 

“I keep seeing it burning,” Rebecca whispers, and her lady-in-waiting knows exactly what she means.

 

Grey Terminal.

 

Because it was ten years to this day, that everything happened. That Riku and the army ravaged the cities of Hightown. That King Doflamingo and his magicians came and stopped them. She might not understand Riku’s actions, but she couldn’t get behind Doflamingo so completely either. Not when he was forcing Rebecca into this. Not when . .

 

Rebecca’s hands start to shake, and Acilia sets the brush down, comes around to grasp at them, hold them tight. 

 

No one ever bothered to remember about Grey Terminal.

 

Everyone wrote it off as part of that night, but the ones within the palace knew a different side. They had been present, when the King had rejected the nobles’ proposal and spent the day ranting about them and their flawed idea. Even considering what had happened that night, there was no way Riku had caused Grey Terminal’s destruction.

 

Which left options open.

 

Acilia knew suspicions were first and foremost on the nobles that had written the decree for approval. Rebecca was too young, she wouldn’t remember any of their names. She wouldn’t know one of them was the parent of her betrothed.

 

That was what Scarlett had thought, but Scarlett had had a lot of her mind that night. And then, days later, Scarlett was dead. Riku was exiled. Viola had sunk into the corner, tried to do her own digging. Acilia remembers her rushing out that night, not long after Scarlett had come in, the princess calling after her younger sister.

 

But Viola had always been stubborn.

 

Acilia had been Rebecca’s lady-in-waiting ever since Scarlett had died, and Viola was never far behind. She’d heard all the woman’s theories. About how the nobles contracted people living in Grey terminal for money. About how they triggered all the explosives set up that night, engulfing the place in flames. About how they closed the border to Lowtown, just for that night.

 

Not fast enough, though. She’d heard, in the aftermath of it all, that one of the nobles had lost a son. Died in the fire.

 

Rebecca had been the crown princess since she was six, since her mother had died. She had been betrothed to Stelly since she was twelve, since Viola had spoken out and vanished and no one had spoken out of turn again.

 

Those four years of engagement were closing in on the day the girl dreaded most.

 

Acilia rubs her thumbs over Rebecca’s palms. “Calm down,” she soothes. “It’s just turned June. You’re fine, darling.”

 

Rebecca breathes, deep, in and out. After a long moment, she nods.

 

Acilia goes back to brushing her hair. Once she’s done, and braiding it, Rebecca hums, and she looks back to the mirror.

 

“Thanks, Acilia,” she whispers. 

 

Acilia nods. “Of course.”

 

No matter how good a king Doflamingo was, he would never be great, if Rebecca was never happy.

 

-

  
  


[ Four years ago ]

 

Lami always gets sent to Sevio, because she’s pretty and because she’s unknown. She can blend in. But she had heard rumors, and so her being there wasn’t necessarily for everyone’s sake, but for her own gains.

 

She keeps to the borders of the capital, because it’s been a long time but she’s taking no chances in being recognized by Doflamingo’s gang. Not when she still had baby fat in her cheeks, as little as she’d like to admit it.

 

At least she has a hat she can sort of pull the brim over her face, so she can choose who gets a full view of her. 

 

She waits a while near one of the clinics, because she knows her brother. After about an hour, she’s rewarded. Good thing, too -the sun is setting. She’d have to hurry back, if she wanted to find the hovel before morning.

 

She approaches from the opposite side, and carelessly steps into his path as they cross, stumbling back a bit upon impact. Immediately hands are on her shoulders, steadying her. 

 

“You okay?”

 

“Yeah. Sorry.” And she looks up, letting her hat tip higher on her forehead, so that her face is full for him to see. “My mistake.”

 

Law’s face is impossible. She almost laughs, but that would be too odd.

 

“La-” he starts to breathe, so she quickly snakes a hand around his arm and tugs him sharply, cutting him off. Then she drags him down the street, just enough to slip a few paces down an alleyway. There, she lets the hat fall, hanging from her neck by a string.

 

When she looks up, Law is almost on the verge of tears, which was not the reaction she was expecting at all.

 

“Lami,” he says. “I can’t believe you’re not dead.”

 

She purses her lips. “ . . Almost.” She sighs. “Almost. I had help. A man named Dragon, but I can’t explain now, I have to go soon-”

 

He drags her into a hug, tight, and after a moment to process, she reciprocates. She could let herself have this. It had been too long.

 

“You’re working under Doflamingo, aren’t you?” she mumbles, and Law pulls back. “You’re Corazon, aren’t you?”

 

He sighs. “I didn’t want to be. But-” And he cuts off, as he gets a look at her eyes, now glaring at him. “Wha-”

 

“I’m going to free you from him.” Her voice is tight. There’s a lot of emotion -it’s what she’d come to say, today. “I swear on my life.”

 

His eyes narrow. “Lami-”

 

“More than that, I’m going to free this country from his rule. Along with some very important people. I’ll get you out, Law. Promise.”

 

He shifts in his stance. “People don’t like Doffy?” That was a surprise to hear.

 

“People who aren’t in the limelight.” She sighs. “People who know what’s happening, behind the scenes.”

 

He cocks a brow. “And what’s happening?”

 

“I know the princess is only a figurehead for Doflamingo to have obtained public approval so quickly. You can’t blame a child for her family’s destruction, right? So he makes the Rikus out as frauds, but he raises the youngest as pure and kind, so there’s still hope. And then he takes charge until she can rule, but if she’s married off to a noble’s son, then she won’t rule.” She crosses her arms. “It hasn’t been that long since they announced it, but with context, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Especially considering the son’s father is the head of Dressrosan trade, and Doflamingo could exploit that for his own gains.”

 

“Shit,” Law breathes. “You do know a lot. What else?”

 

But she shakes her head, eyes on the waning sunlight. “I have to go.” She slips her hat back on. “You’ll see me again, probably.” Her eyes shine as she looks back up to him, determination filling them. “The revolutionary army will fix everything. Just wait and see.”

 

At the end of the day, Law thinks on his encounter. At the end of the week, he decides something. If they were playing for the long haul, then he would too. He couldn’t risk contacting Lami or any of her friends, not with his position.

 

But, maybe he could do his own work. From the inside.

 

-

 

Makino hums as she washes the cake platter underneath the running water, letting the conversation of the bar float around her. It had been a good day, and a good night. She leaves the platter to dry and turns to put ice in a glass, casting her gaze to the figure seated at the end of the counter. 

 

All of ten minutes ago, things had turned very interesting.

 

She sets the full glass down in front of the man, watching as he forked over a few beri for it, careful to keep his hood pulled low. Her smile turns smug, like she’s sharing a secret. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen you,” she says, keeping her words vague.

 

Riku Dold takes a sip of the drink. “Yes, well. I’ve just arrived. I’m here for my granddaughter’s wedding.”

 

-

 

[ Ten years ago ]

 

“Luffy, come on. You’re the one who wanted to go out.”

 

“But I miss Saabooooooo!” Luffy whines, still dragging his feet. “I wish he were here!”

 

Ace stops walking, sighs. His shoulders hunch down in mention of the name. “I know,” he mumbles. “But we have to respect his choice, no matter how much we don’t like it.”

 

Luffy plops down, crossing his arms. “I miiiiiiiiss him, Aaaaaace! I don’t wanna do this without him here!”

 

“Well, you’ve gotta eat tonight.” He stretches a hand out. “No one will survive with you hungry. Or do you want to starve today?”

 

And then Luffy’s grasping at his hand, letting himself be tugged up. “Nope! Nope nope! I’m good! We can go now!”

 

Neither of them mention it, but their earlier pace has slowed further. Like they’re each weighed down with their thoughts.

 

“Woah, Ace!” Luffy says, snapping the boy into the present. He turns, and Luffy’s staring at him. “Are animals pink?”

 

He sighs. “No, you idiot-”

 

“Then-” He reaches out, points to the underbrush. “I found something pink.” 

 

Ace frowns. “Out here? I don’t think-”

 

“I’m sure! Look, just look!” Then Luffy’s pushing through the fern, swatting things taller than him away. “Follow me!”

 

He doesn’t protest this time, his curiosity too caught in Luffy’s web. 

 

“Ah! Ace! It’s a person!” Luffy calls, and Ace pushes past the underbrush faster, until he’s right beside Luffy, looking down at a body.

 

Well. They were still breathing. Luffy was right, they  _ were _ pink. And  _ long _ . Ace reaches out and taps an outstretched hand with his foot. The body grunts, twitching their fingers. Ace frowns again, moving closer.

 

He reaches this time to the pink hat, turning it over until he sees a face, and resists the urge to make noise. Luffy, unfortunately, is not that inconspicuous, and lets out a huge gasp. Crusty eyes -or, one, the one that isn’t black and bruised shut- open just a little, and Ace stiffens his hold.

 

There are multiple deep scrapes on the guy’s face, and Ace can spot blood on the ground now. Carefully, he sets the head down, moving to his torso and gesturing for Luffy to help. With their combined effort, they turn the guy over to his back, and in return, he lets out a pained breathy sound.

 

Luffy throws his hands in front of his mouth, eyes wide. “He’s hurt,” he whispers, like Ace can’t see that.

 

The man’s blonde hair is stained red, from what they could see poking out from the pink hood. His shirt is torn and ragged, and there are strange black patches scattered on the skin. Ace can’t tell what they were from, but they looked bad. He was barefoot, and his toenails were in bad shape, only half of them there, and then chipped oddly, bloodied. One of his pant legs was gone past the knee, his skin mottled with bruises and slashes. 

 

He had this air around him, too. Like something was just  _ wrong _ , but it wasn’t physical in any way. Ace didn’t understand, but he knew it wasn’t good. He comes closer to the man’s face, and he’s greeted with the one eye again. It’s purple, a shade Ace has never seen on eyes before, and it seems wholly unnatural. 

 

“We’re going to help you,” he tells him, because he can’t ignore a strange pink man collapsed on the mountain. If he didn’t die from his wounds, the animals would have him by the end of the day. He nods back to Luffy. “Oi! Help me carry him!”

 

He doesn’t get a protest from the mystery man, but at this point, Ace isn’t even sure he could speak if he wanted to.

 

Dadan is not happy about having a severely injured person in her home, but after Ace snaps about him taking care of it himself if she was so unhappy, she snaps back at him to not be an idiot, he didn’t know anything about treating injuries! And then she fucks off to the other side of the house, which is fine because Ace might throw something if he talks more with her.

 

He’s fetching water onto a piece of cloth when she comes back, a basket of medical supplies and bandages under her arm, and sets to work. They peel off the man’s shirt and Ace gets to work slowly clearing away the blood. Dadan shifts in place as she looks at the black patches, and then the air around them turns to that sour feeling that’s so much more potent in an enclosed space.

 

“Dogra,” Dadan snaps. “Open the windows! And the door! And kick everyone out!”

 

Luffy protests, but the feeling starts making him sick, so he follows Dogra and Magra out in the end.

 

“This isn’t good,” Dadan mutters, poking at one of the spots. Ace glances up.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Hell if I know.”

 

Movement makes them turn to the man’s head, see it raised slightly. His fingers reach up to grasp on the edge of his waist, where one of the spots lay. As if reacting to him, it begins to swirl. 

 

“Cut it . . out,” the man huffs, wheezing between words. He clenches his fingers and the black begins to grow smaller, but only for a moment, and then he lets out a pained noise and his hand falls back and his head slumps to the floor. “Please,” he rasps, breathing deeply.

 

Ace looks to Dadan now, eyes wide. She sighs, but turns to her basket, produces something sharp.

 

“You’ve got some explaining to do, brat.”

 

Ace gets squeamish as Dadan begins cutting up the skin, so he works on the man’s legs next, rewetting the cloth to clean it. After a while, she hums in satisfaction and tosses a pile of black goop to the floor. Then she frowns, pokes it with a bare finger, and reels back, hissing. Ace leans over. “What? What’s wrong?”

 

“It hurts like a bitch,” she groans, and then, right before their eyes, the goop evaporates into mist.

 

Ace whips his head over to the skin it used to cover.

 

It looked like a dent was left, an impression where the black had burned into it. The skin looked raw, but it wasn’t bleeding at all.

 

Dadan works through the remaining patches, being careful to let them dissolve. Slowly, the sour air around them begins to diminish. Ace is reaching to slide off the man’s hat, clean the blood from his hair and face, when he notices a change.

 

The man’s open eye wasn’t purple anymore. 

 

Instead, it was pink-ish, like a faded version of the purple. Ace frowns but chooses not to mention it. He raises the cloth, carefully wiping the man’s cheeks.

 

When Dadan pulls the last patch out, throws it to the ground, the man clenches his eyes shut, teeth gritted. His body convulses, and then he’s coughing, and Ace reels back. As soon as it started, though, it’s over, and his face relaxes. His eye opens again, but it’s unfocused, looking straight up. “Thanks,” he mutters.

 

Ace stares.

 

His eye was a reddish-brown, nothing compared to the purple it had been earlier. Was this their natural color? Was it because all of the dark icky stuff was gone?

 

“Ace, are you finished?” Dadan asks, watching the last pile of black dissolve. He nods, dropping the cloth. They work together to spread a salve over the worst of the wounds, and leave the rest be, because “we aren’t a goddamn clinic, and I don’t want to run out of supplies on one person!”

 

They bandage the man up, and get another breathy thanks in return. Ace comes close again, on his knees beside the man’s head. As Dadan runs off to return the supplies, he bends down right near the man’s ear.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

The man chuckles. “Roci-nante. Rocinante.”

 

Ace frowns, because that was a mouthful. “Roci, then,” he decides. “Why . . were your eyes like that? All dark?”

 

Roci smiles, but it’s faint. “Perceptive kid,” he mumbles. “Well, guess you could say I was dying. What color are they now?”

 

“Rust.”

 

“Ah. That’s good. It’s all gone, then.”

 

“What’s gone?”

 

He shakes his head, then winces at the motion. “Don’t -worry, about it.” His eye flutters. “Will she get mad if I fall asleep?”

 

“Probably,” Ace answers. “But that’s okay. I’ll make sure you’re still here when you wake up.”

 

Roci smiles again. “Nice kid. Thanks.”

 

Ace goes to answer, but he’s already asleep.

 

-

 

A few days later, Roci is up walking. His movements are shaky, but he can hobble around without help, for a short while. He finds Ace up on a hill higher than the house, gazing down at the mess of buildings near the island’s center. After a moment, he takes a seat next to him.

 

“What’s so interesting about that?” he asks.

 

Ace startles, but brushes it off before long. “N-Nothing,” he mutters. “Just . . a friend, who lives there.”

 

“Do you visit him?”

 

“No.” Ace pulls his legs to his chest, hunkers his head down. “I can’t.”

 

Roci hums. “I have someone like that.” He feels Ace turn towards him, so he continues. “A boy, a little bit older than you. I had to leave him with someone, and then I got hurt, so . .” He shakes his head. 

 

“Is he with the people who hurt you?”

 

He smiles. “You’re a very perceptive kid.”

 

“You said that already.” Ace turns away when Roci faces him, puffing his cheeks and looking back to the capital. “Back the other day. When I brought up your eyes.”

 

“Ah.” Roci watches him for another minute. “That’s . . . not the only reason you’re unhappy. Is it?”

 

Ace bunches his legs tighter to his chest. “No,” he mumbles. “But I don’t like talking about it.”

 

“Hey, that’s fine with me.” Roci shrugs. “But, if you needed to . . I promise I won’t tell. Not even Luffy.”

 

They sit there, and the sun starts setting, and soon dinner will be ready, and they’ll have to scramble inside to get enough to eat before it’s gone. But before that, they watch the cities sprawled beneath the mountain.

 

Ace breaks the silence first.

 

“It’s my birthday,” he mutters. “But don’t mention it to anyone. Please.”

 

Roci opens his mouth to respond, and opens it further when an explosion rocks the western half of the island, and a great fire becomes visible to their left, far, far down below. 

 

Ace immediately jumps to his feet. “That’s Grey Terminal,” he breathes. “Something’s happening!” He moves forward a few steps, then jerks his head back to Roci. “I’m going down. Don’t tell Luffy!”

 

He’s gone before Rocinante can even think to protest. Not like he could run after the boy, either. Not in his condition.

 

On the other side, near the sea, more light appears as fires break out. He stands on the rock formation he’d been perched on, aiming for a better view. Smoke gathers in the air.

 

Oh.

 

He purses his lips, and they downturn into a snarl immediately. He knows what this is. Of course. It couldn’t be anything else. 

 

He knows what he’s failed to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay small notes.
> 
> carta=foosha, so instead of a seaside village, it's a port town, but other than that it's entirely foosha. sevio=capital, where the royal palace is. surrounding it is hightown, made up of balsa, acacia, and primula. mid/lowtown surrounds that. GT was formerly outside of that, where it was in canon. Mt Colubo is the same relative distance from sevio as it is from hightown in canon. the island is goa, the kingdom is dressrosa.
> 
> also. i'm not including everyone from the dof family. you'll see some prominent ones (monet, anyone??) but for the most part i'm trying to avoid a dubious morality column thats.. already kinda there. i'm trying not to add more on to it, i guess. for the most part you'll be able to tell who's good and who's bad.


	2. Chapter 2

“Maybe I can fake my own death,” Ace sighs. He rests his chin on his knees, curled to his chest, and looks out over the hill the bandit hideout sat on. 

 

“That’s so much trouble to go through,” Rocinante replies, leaning back from his own perch. “Besides, you don’t want to be cooped up here, never able to leave. Wouldn’t want to risk them finding out.” He’d know. He’d know very well.

 

“Who cares about some kid living on the mountains anyway?” Ace grumbles.

 

“Unfortunately, you’re still a citizen of the kingdom. They want all the manpower they can get their hands on.”

 

“They just want to control us,” Ace grounds out.

 

This time, it’s Rocinante who releases a sigh, only thinly-veiling his stress. “Don’t think too much on it.”

 

Ace whips his head around. “You’re taking this too lightly, Roci!”

 

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m just being realistic. You’re not going to be able to get out of this, Ace, as much as I wish you could. You just have to accept it.”

 

Ace stands to his full height, towering over the blonde. “You’re not willing to help me at all?!”

 

“Do you still want to die?” he asks calmly.

 

The effect is immediate. Ace turns his head to the side, cheeks reddening. “No,” he mumbles.

 

“I’m not happy, either. But this is inevitable. You’re just going to have to accept it.”

 

Ace sits down again, this time closer. Rocinante reaches out, wraps an arm around his shoulders. “I know,” he mumbles.

 

-

 

Viola sees red, and as soon as Law leaves, she lashes out, upturning the cup and spilling its contents all over the floor of her cell. She breathes deeply, eyes wide, and sharply turns away, curling into a corner.  _ Don’t think about it _ , she tells herself.  _ Don’t! _

 

But it’s hard.

 

She’s only been left one cup of water to last her a day for  _ months _ now, and the prospect of waiting so long for more is already eating away at her. Her throat is dry; her mind is numb. But she’s not willing to give up.

 

Her resolve hardens. If she can go a full day without whatever was dampening her power and sapping her strength, perhaps she could work up the nerve to get out of here. At the very least, she could use her clairvoyance to determine if Mansherry was down here, like everyone claimed she was. 

 

Her eyes slip shut, and she works to steady her breathing. Just one day. One day, and she would be able to move again. She would get her energy back. She could  _ do something, finally. _

 

-

 

Sabo wakes with fire in his head and panic in his heart.

 

It takes a few mouthfuls of stale air before he realizes he’s in the hovel, but that doesn’t stop his pulse from racing, or flames from flickering at the edges of his vision. There’s a blanket wrapped around his legs from his struggle waking, and he reaches shaking hands down to pry it off, except it just gets more tangled, and he can’t get out, get  _ up _ , and then the hovel isn’t dark anymore and he’s inhaling the smoke and the side of his face where his burn scar is  _ aches _ -

 

Two hands come to cup his cheeks and Sabo lets out a stuttering gasp. They’re cold, and, carefully, the fingertips caress his sensitive skin. Sabo stops struggling, and a cool forehead comes to rest against his, lightly shushing him. He works to steady his breathing, and the flames die out, and everything is dark again. 

 

Lami presses forward until Sabo’s head rests against the wall. His hands, which had her wrists in a bruising grip, slowly begin to loosen. She moves her thumbs across his cheeks. “It’s okay,” she breathes. “That was ten years ago, Sabo. You’re okay now.”

 

She doesn’t say this to berate him. Trauma was a funny thing -she’d know well. But sometimes, on hot nights like these, it was hard for him to work himself out of his memories. He went back to being ten, and watching grey terminal catch on fire around him. He swallows thick and she presses closer, shushing him lightly, thumbs still caressing his skin.

 

Finally, he releases her wrists, slumps fully against the wall. Lami doesn’t move for another moment, waiting. 

 

Sabo lunges forward, crashing into her, arms wrapped tight around her form, and buries his face in her chest. Lami hums, rising to her knees so that she’s leant over the blonde, and runs a hand through his hair. “You’re okay,” she murmurs. Sabo shakes in her arms. She wraps her free arm around his shoulders, rests her chin atop his head.

 

A movement by the doorway catches her eye, and she turns very little to spy Wicca watching from the corner. Lami blinks, slowly, and minutely shakes her head. Wicca nods and moves out of sight again, probably to assure everyone that the screaming fit they’d all endured was just more of the usual.

 

Lami sighs, looking back down at the sobbing blonde in her arms. Of all the times he could regain his memories.

 

She stays like that for a long time. When Sabo finally calms down, it takes effort to get him to lie down again. He doesn’t take the blanket, this time. Too hot, he mumbles.

 

Lami understands.

 

He grasps her hand before she can even think of moving away, and with a fleeting glance to the waning moonlight she can see out the doorway and into the hall, she sighs and settles by his side proper. She cards a hand through his locks as he tries to fall back asleep, and lets him hold her other hand a little too tightly.

 

By the time his grip has loosened, it’s no longer night. Lami picks herself up from the floor and pads over to the doorway, only casting a quick look back to make sure she didn’t wake Sabo. Once she’s satisfied, she tiptoes out of the space and down the hall, until she’s in the main room.

 

There’s no half-window here, so in place of natural light, Dragon has an oil lamp burning on the edge of the table. He’s bent over the map, quill in hand, and his spectacles are sliding dangerously off his nose. Lami clears her throat before entering the room, and he casts a fleeting glance to her before turning back, entirely unfazed.

 

“How is he?” he does ask, quietly, and Lami pads around the table until she’s seated on the opposite side of her leader.

 

“Asleep.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, briefly, then drops her arm, moving forward to look at the map. “What are you doing?”

 

“Considering the data you brought,” he replies. She hums, eyes tracking lines as they lead to and from the royal palace, circling key points of Sevio. Initials are jotted out above each twisting path, and she takes a moment to bite her lip as she takes it all in, letting doubt rise in one wave and then flushing it all back.

 

Dragon notices anyway.

 

“Everything will be fine,” he says. It’s not to assure her, Lami knows, hes merely stating what he believes to be fact. 

 

“I know,” she answers, but this time, she doesn’t even believe herself.

 

-

 

Law holds his frustration on the edge of his lip as the cup of water he’d so carefully placed inside is ruthlessly kicked towards the bars, splattering the edges of his shoes from where he’s crouched. He blinks, slowly, and stops breathing for one, two, three moments, working to calm himself down.

 

It’s not like he didn’t notice the damp stone, when he walked in. And now this.

 

Viola is lying on her side, glaring at him, but she’s breathing deeply, and her arms are wrapped around her form, holding her body still. Law wonders, if she let go, would she tumble towards him, claws out, or would she cave in, lick the water from where it’s spilled on the ground?

 

He starts breathing again just to let out a sigh. His eyes narrow. “You have no idea how much those drugs cost,” he mutters.

 

Viola snarls at him. “What, the royal family has to worry about money now?” she spits, but Law takes it in stride. She’s obviously the one suffering.

 

“What are you gaining from this?” he asks instead. A small part of him wants to spill, to tell her he was pouring out what was given to him, was crafting his own mixture, was keeping her power  _ contained _ instead of  _ dormant _ . That it was expensive to go behind the family’s back, to put a cap on her clairvoyance so they couldn’t sense that she still had access to it. “What’s the point?”

 

“You can figure it out, can’t you?” Viola’s arms wrap tighter around her middle. Her legs are trembling. 

 

This wasn’t good. The longer she went without, the more her magic would project. Doffy would know something was wrong. Law thinks quick, stretching forward, pressing both hands to the bars of her cell.

 

“If you drink the water, I’ll let you ask me a question.” Her brows rise. Good. “Any question, and I’ll answer honestly. I promise.” Viola’s power wasn’t suited for combat. She knew she had no chance to escape, especially with how weak she was. Which means she was after something else. Law mentally sighs, but doesn’t falter. There wasn’t anything she could ask that would put them at risk. He could afford to take this chance.

 

“How do I know you won’t just walk off?”

 

He holds a hand to his heart. “I swear on my life.” Do no harm. It was a doctor’s thing, after all. He hums, his internal clock telling him he was out of time. “I’ll be back in an hour. You have until then to decide what to ask.”

 

“I don’t trust you,” Viola calls, as he’s halfway down the hall. Law doesn’t bother to reply. She didn’t have to trust him.

 

She just had to play her role.

 

-

 

“Ace turns twenty-two this year,” Sabo says suddenly, and all conversation around the table dissipates. 

 

Dragon withholds his sigh. “When?”

 

“Last week. June first.”

 

He’s going to regret this. “What’s your point?”

 

“Having an inside would be helpful,” Sabo presses. “If I let him in, tell him what’s going on, then we have someone stationed inside the royal army-”

 

“No,” Dragon says. His tone says it’s final, that it was end of discussion.

 

Sabo plows on, undeterred. “We still don’t have all the pieces, and I know we’re missing something! This is our only chance to have someone keep eyes on the Donquixotes undetected, and he hasn’t even enlisted yet. If we just-”

 

“Sabo,” Dragon says, tone short. “The more people know about our plan-”

 

“The more help we’ll have!” he counters.

 

“No.” Dragon finally turns to face him, locking eyes with burning blue. “The more chance we have for compromise. We’re not discussing this. You can’t tell him.”

 

_ You can’t reveal yourself to him _ , is how Sabo takes this, the words stinging like a slap across the face.  _ You can’t let anyone know you’re alive. Even if you remember your brothers, you can’t run to them. You have to sit here, in Balsa, in a  _ hole in the ground, _ and stick to the plan. _

 

Kyros and Lami share a look. Though this was the first they’d heard the royal army take, it was not the first time Sabo had tried to persuade Dragon to let Ace in on the plan. It always ended the same.

 

Dragon finally turns back to the map, and the conversation resumes as it had been before the blonde’s interruption. After a few minutes of stewing in silence, Sabo picks himself up and moves from the room. He’ll walk to the back, to the furthest parts of the hovel, where his screams of frustration would only barely reach them. 

 

Dragon keeps one eye on his retreating form until he’s out of sight, then goes back to his map. With any luck, his second would snap himself out of it before their plan commenced in full. 

 

They couldn’t afford any distractions.

 

-

 

When Law finds his way back underground, Viola is sat up in the middle of her cell. Her breathing has steadied, but her eyes are hollow, her cheeks gaunt. Law sits down in front of the bars and hands her the small cup through the cracks. She takes it with shaking hands, brings it toward her middle, and looks down at it.

 

Then she swipes it out, and the cup hits the wall, shatters. She reaches forward until her hands are around Law’s throat, too quick for him to react, and squeezes-

 

Viola blinks, her breath catching, and finds her eyes still on the water. A wave of nausea overtakes her, and she wilts. That had been- Then, she could use-

 

A low groan leaves her lips as the pressure builds. She tries to reach out, but she can’t. Her grip tightens around the cup.

 

“Drink it,” Law tells her. “You’ll feel better with some water in your system.”

 

She doesn’t want to. If she had a burst like that, then she was gaining her clairvoyance back. But she felt so sick, and there was no way she was using it again right away, and Law had promised. And she needed to know. She couldn’t afford to sit here another minute, not knowing.

 

Viola brings the rim to her lips and drains the cup. She coughs a little, near the end, maybe rushing just a tad too much. Like she could help it. She brings a fist to swipe across her lips, clearing the excess. Almost immediately, her head feels better, but her limbs grow heavy. She feels like lead.

 

Her head tips back a little, and she eyes Law warily. After a minute, he spreads his arms, a gesture for her to continue. 

 

Well. here goes nothing.

 

“Where is Mansherry?” she croaks, letting the cup fall from her grasp. It bounces off the stone floor, chipping the rim, and rolls to a stop in front of Law.

 

“I don’t know,” he says simply.

 

Then he brings his hands up, because Viola looks absolutely murderous, and before she could rant about how  _ he promised _ he continues. “I used to. She used to be down here. Vergo moved her sometime in the last week, though, and now no one knows where she is.”

 

Her brows raise. “She’s lost?”

 

“No,” he corrects. “Vergo and Doffy know where she is. They’re the only ones that do.”

 

Viola breathes in very deeply. She presses her palms to her face. Her exhale is a stuttering thing. Slowly, she moves until her back is leant against the walls of her cell. Her head feels heavy, and her eyes droop. Soon, she doesn’t even have the strength to keep her arms up.

 

“Fine,” she breathes. “I believe you.”

 

Law stands in one quick motion. He’s already been down here too long. He pockets the water cup and nods to Viola, and before she can say or  _ ask _ anything else, he sweeps from the room.

 

-

 

“I think you would look pretty in a pink dress,” Baby 5 admits, curling a hand into her chin in thought. “Seriously. I get a wedding’s whole thing is white, but maybe just a tinge of pink, just enough to offset it.” She turns her gaze to the corner. “Sugar, what do you think?”

 

“I don’t care,” the child mutters, looking on in indifference. She plunges her hand into her grape bowl once more, popping one into her mouth.

 

Baby 5 waves her off. “Pah, you’re no fun!” She spins on her heel and grasps the girl’s wrists, lifting them closer. “I’ll help you find the perfect wedding dress,” she says, her eyes sparkling.

 

Rebecca Riku doesn’t want to think about wedding dresses. She doesn’t want to think about ugly ginger boys, or rich nobles, or fancy ceremonies. She doesn’t want to think about her birthday and what it means, and what she’ll be losing by finally turning sixteen.

 

Rebecca Riku doesn’t want to think about wedding dresses, but it seems today, she has no choice.

 

“Okay,” she tells Baby 5, one of the more sane of the Donquixotes, in a quiet voice. Then she looks back at the teal-haired ten year old in the corner of her room, and her voice finds itself again. “Are you helping, too?”

 

Sugar shrugs. “Monet is busy,” she admits. “I’ll watch.”

 

Her sister, Rebecca thinks, if she’s recalling it correctly. It’s strange -she doesn’t think she’s seen Sugar age since that night ten years ago. Rebecca grew with the time, morphing from being four years younger, and now was almost sixteen. But Sugar hadn’t changed at all. She was still ten.

 

Rebecca tries not to think much on it. It had to be a magic thing. She didn’t quite understand that stuff, and she tried her best not to get involved in it.

 

The last time she did, Jora died. Viola vanished. 

 

Rebecca wants nothing to do with magic.

 

“Great!” Baby 5 clasps her hands together. “There are two dress shops I’ve had my eye on for a while now. I’ve made an appointment with one of them for today, and I can book the second one sometime next week.” She pauses, pressing a finger to her puffed cheek in a pout. “I wish I was able to do it sooner, but all the nobles are booking appointments like crazy to find a dress for the royal wedding.”

 

Rebecca tries not to flinch at those last words.

 

“But, that’s okay! If we need an earlier time, we can always clear them out.” She goes back to grasping Rebecca’s thin hands, and the teen has to work hard to keep a polite smile on her face. “You’re the princess, after all! They’ll have to reschedule for you!”

 

“That’s okay,” Rebecca placates. “I don’t mind waiting.”

 

“Pah! You’re not fun, either.” Baby 5 releases her, spinning away to the center of the room. “What’s the point in having power if you don’t use it?” She twirls to the corner and hoists Sugar from her chair. The girl eeps and holds tight to her fruit bowl, turning her head to glare at Baby 5 as she moves back across the room, towards the door. “Let’s go now! I’m sure they’ll let us come early. The sooner, the better!”

 

Rebecca forces her feet to move, following along at a slower pace, chin turned down. She really couldn’t stand the nobles, she’d rather be locked away in her room any day than have to listen to them gawk at her about what a savage her family was, but at least she turned out alright! At least she was saved by Doflamingo, right? Her hands clench into fists.

 

She pictures Stelly’s stupid face, sneering at the Riku name.

 

Then Baby 5 calls her name and she perks up, raises her chin, and works her expression back into a placating one. She couldn’t cry right now. She had to be strong.

 

Someone had promised her everything would turn out fine. She had to trust in those words.

 

-

 

Luffy finds Rocinante around the back side of the hideout, facing the remainder of Mount Colubo and, further out, the sea. He stands for a minute, arms out to his side, and twists his torso to look for the missing person from the picture. He frowns when he doesn’t seen him, and turns back to Rocinante.

 

“Ne ne, Roci,” Luffy says, moving closer. “Where’s Ace?”

 

Rocinante’s lips dip into a frown. His gaze is fixed on the sea. “He went,” he begins, his words slow. “To the capital. To enlist in the royal army.”

 

Luffy’s arms drop. “Oh,” he mutters. 

 

“Oh,” Rocinante echoes. “He’ll be back soon,” he says eventually, after a bout of silence too long to be comfortable has passed. 

 

“Corazon gave me more money today,” Luffy admits. “He wants more of that stuff you make. I bought the ingredients on my way back.”

 

Rocinante breathes out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Carelessly, he unfolds his legs from underneath the stone he was resting on. He overbalances and faceplants. Luffy tries to hold in his laughter, but he’s not very good at it.

 

The blonde picks himself up from the forest floor and nods to Luffy. “Show me,” he says. “I’ll work on it tonight, have it ready for tomorrow.”

 

Luffy’s brows pinch. “That fast? Doesn’t it usually take you longer?”

 

“If he needs it this soon again, I can’t afford to waste time.” He smiles, but the edges of his lips pick up in a way that has Luffy on edge. “Not like I have anything better to do, either. Even if it knocks me out for a few days, I can afford to use the last of this magic of mine.”

 

-

 

Far out of sight, nearing the port of Carta, is a small dinghy. A boy sits at the front, windswept hair held back by a bandana. He stops rowing for a moment, letting them drift, and reaches back for the binoculars. His breath catches as he looks through them, seeing the island looming in the distance.

 

He reaches back again, jerking on the pant legs of the second passenger of the boat. “Garp-san!” he hisses, finally tearing his gaze away to tug harder, glancing back to see the old man slumped over the remaining seats, head lolled as he snored. “Garp-san!” he says, louder, and the snot bubble pops.

 

Garp blinks his eyes open. “Huh?”

 

“We’ve made it.” The boy turns back to look out at the island again, and Garp spots a sliver of pink as he finally bothers to look up. “We’re finally here.”


End file.
